


Turns Out (I'm Trouble)

by tisfan



Series: Bucky Barnes has Kittens [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has Cats, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, M/M, Shaving, Social Anxiety, Stress Relief, Writer Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky’s agent, Steve, has an offer for Bucky. Bucky… has anxiety. Tony… ends up with a new look for his boyfriend.





	Turns Out (I'm Trouble)

**Author's Note:**

> For the MCU Kink Bingo Square G3 - shaved genitals. 
> 
> They're not exactly mentioned (I want to keep this series PG-13) but that the shaving "goes all the way up"

**“** So, this ain't my first rodeo,” Bucky said, and the scroll went over his phone to Steve while he was still cutting up oranges on fruit ninja. “That being said, I'm not sure how it's fair that we only get one. Do you think that one rodeo should confer all the necessary information.”

“What do you think is an adequate number of rodeos before you're considered competent?”

“None. I would be great with _zero_ rodeos. I mean who decided that rodeos were a thing we needed to have under our belt?”

“I'm not saying you have to sign the contract, Buck. But this is the next big thing.”

“What was wrong with the last big thing?”

“You need to stay relevant.”

“Did book sales drop while I wasn't paying attention?” Bucky wondered. His royalty checks still came with the same semi regularity that they'd always come since he started his dubious secondary career as a novelist hermit. Or a hermit novelist. Whatever. It wasn't what he'd been doing before the accident, but the bills were paid. Including his horrific physical therapy appointments and his shrink appointments even if he skipped those more often than he went.

He wasn't even having his insurance subsidized by a business office and he still had everything he needed.

Part of that may have been Tony and having a joint household and-- well, admittedly, Tony's P.A. slash best friends slash whatever she was had just folded in Bucky's expenses for the household with Tony's, gave him a shiny credit card with his name neatly embossed in silver, and Bucky had stopped thinking about money.

Pepper took out money for Bucky's expenses and kept up the household and Bucky had gladly stopped worrying about it. He figured Tony would tell him if he owed money. But it wasn't like he'd actually looked at his statements. He wasn’t a gold digger; he was a best selling writer and if that didn’t mean he was a millionaire (and it really didn’t) he was at least providing his share of their expenses. He thought. Maybe. Grr. Now he was going to have to ask Pepper about it and look at a statement or something. Ug.

“You're still in the top ten,” Steve answered. “For the publisher. Your books still sell. It's just… you could be more. You used to want that.”

“I don't know why,” Bucky said, and that was nothing but the truth. He couldn't remember why he wanted more. He had enough. “Gotta go, Steve.”

“Buck--”

He hung up the phone.

Twitched.

Ug. It was going to be one of those days. He checked his calendar, which really wasn't his so much as it was Tony's with a sideline for Bucky. Also set up by Pepper and constantly updated to his phone, and Bucky wondered if he was paying part of her salary, or if he should be, or what. Steve, damnit.

Tony wouldn't be home until tomorrow.

Well thank Christ for small favors. Maybe Bucky could get the twitches out of his system before Tony got home from business. Not that Tony would judge. Or criticize. He didn't even (usually) worry out loud too much, but… Bucky didn't want to disappoint Tony.

You've been doing so well, Buck.

_Yeah Steve. By whose fucking standards and why am I supposed to do well. Why can't enough just be enough?_

*******

Two days delay with a contract fail from Bangalore and a bad flight connection and Tony was looking forward to nothing more than snuggles with his boyfriend and cats, food that didn't come with a recommended wine, a loose tee and sweatpants.

Maybe some rock and roll on the speakers.

Sleep.

Sex.

That moved right up to the top of the fucking list when he walked in the door to look right up Bucky's long, bare legs, ass clad in nothing more than a pair of tighty whiteys. Friday was curled up at the small of Bucky's back, eyes slitted, paws kneading at those thighs.“Well good morning,” Tony said. And then his eyes focused on yes, those thighs.

Slick and smooth and hairless. Holy shit. The smooth expense of skin was incredibly touchable looking. Usually Bucky's legs were medium well coated with hair, dark and curling, and manscaping wasn't something he had really indulged in.

“Uhhhhhhh,” Tony said, mouth open and running without even the slightest idea of what he was going to say.

“Hey Tony,” Bucky said. He didn't look around altho that wasn't entirely unusual. Tony had been gone more than a week, but Bucky was very considerate of the cats’ comfort, too.

“Uh, anything new and special going on here?”

“No.” That sounded nothing like a no and more like a I don’t want to talk about it. “Why, did Steve ask you to ask me?”

“Um. No?” Tony didn’t sound as certain as he would have liked, but he thought he should probably be excused, with his boyfriend looking like a damn baby dolphin right there, in their living room, in his undies. Underwear models could be jealous of that ass and those thighs and that back. Well, maybe not too far up the back, but that was because advertising companies were stupid and thought of scars as being imperfections, and admittedly, Bucky’s back and chest and left arm looked like he survived a train wreck, which was exactly what happened, and even if advertising companies were stupid as fuck, Tony wanted to lay across Bucky’s legs and kiss every one of those scars. A tribute to Bucky living long enough for Tony to get to love him, even a little, and be loved by him. Which was more than Tony deserved, but he’d absolutely take it. He was a greedy bastard and he knew it.

Also, it was possible Steve had asked him something. But Tony wouldn’t know, because he’d been gone for a week and he seldom looked at his personal mail while he was on business travel since most of it was spam, and the rest of it was from people who wanted something.

Maybe Steve wanted something.

Not that Tony cared; Bucky’s editor/agent/friend and Tony didn’t always get along so well. They were usually cordial in public, since that’s what Bucky wanted. Tony didn’t have to be a genius to see that Bucky got tense around people who were arguing. (Tony was a genius, but he didn’t have to be.)

“Was he supposed to?” Tony couldn’t stop staring, and he started wondering how far up that shave job went, exactly. Which led him to really wanting to touch Bucky’s legs. Which led to him remembering that he had a suitcase in one hand -- or, more exactly, forgetting that he had a suitcase in hand, and just letting go, which meant it crashed to the floor.

Friday abandoned her perch on Bucky’s ass.

“No,” Bucky said, and he finally rolled over, in the process, spreading those thighs and looking up at Tony from the sofa. “He’s supposed to keep his damn mouth shut, I jus’ didn’t expect him to.”

“Oh,” Tony said. “Okay, so in the interests of clarifying my utter confusion at this point, is there something you want to tell me -- but only if you want to, I’m not prying, and two, why do you look like a venus razor model?”

“Huh? Oh,” Bucky said, opening his legs and bringing them together again. Sexy butterfly, Tony thought, still sort of lost in the expanse of leg. “I… had the twitchies while you were gone, and sometimes I don’t like the way… _stuff_ , feels on my skin.

Steve’s obsession with Bucky wearing pants, the part of Tony’s brain that wasn’t otherwise occupied piped up. As an indicator of how he’s doing, mentally.

“So--”

“Well, it was bad,” Bucky said with a shrug. “So, I uh… shaved.”

“ _Everything_?” Tony croaked.

“Everything.”

Tony was a bad boyfriend, he was so bad, because he was too busy staring to really process-- and then he shook himself out of it. “Are you… okay?”

“Better,” Bucky said. “Seein’ you look at me like that helps.”

Tony’s hand snuck out without his permission and hovered over Bucky’s leg. “Is it--”

“Yeah, go on,” Bucky said, extending his leg, complete with pointed toe. “It’s okay.”

 _Smooth_ , Tony’s brain supplied. Bucky’s skin as smooth, supple. Perfect and gorgeous and soft.

Bucky kept his legs spread, inviting, and Tony took that invitation, crawling over the arm of the sofa until he was cradled between his boyfriend’s thighs. “You are so beautiful.”

“But am I enough?” Bucky wondered.

“Enough for what? For me, hell yes. You’re enough, baby. Exactly and perfectly enough for me. Too much, sometimes. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Come here,” Bucky told him, and Tony went, until his mouth met with Bucky’s, kissing him and petting him like they’d been separated for months instead of days.

Friday made a yowling complaint and left the room.

***

“Feeling better?” Tony asked. They’d made it from the sofa to the bedroom and Bucky was laying across the bed, his head pillowed against Tony’s chest.

“God, yes,” Bucky said. He tipped his face and kissed Tony’s arm. His boyfriend was warm and snuggly and Tony loved him more than he knew how to say. “You’re the best.”

“I have been told, on good authority, that it is _Pepper_ who is the actual best,” Tony said.

“And who told you that?”

“Pepper.”

“Oh.”

U decided things were safe enough, that his humans were not going to start rolling around again and being scary and he jumped up onto the bed to demand Tony’s attention as well. Sometimes Tony thought it would be very handy if he had a couple of extra arms, but then decided that if he did, people would just expect more work out of him.

“You want to tell me what you’re fighting with Steve about?”

Bucky licked his lips. “Um…”

“You don’t have to tell me, only if you want to.”

“Steve… wants me to sign a contract for Man on the Bridge to be made into a movie. They have some producers and preliminary scripting done,” Bucky admitted. “But they want me in for consultation, talking to big Hollywood guys.”

“Okay, well, is that good?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “I mean, I can sign the option off, which means they’ll make it into a movie and I won’t consult, and it’ll be awful and everyone will hate it, or I can sign to consult, and it’ll be awful and everyone will hate it.”

“Or, you know, it could be amazing, and you’ll get a lot of new readers,” Tony pointed out. Movie making, that was big. Of course, it had been the downfall of some authors, too. Ones that got lost in the Hollywood party scene, or like a certain fantasy author that everyone knew and sometimes loved, he pretty much never wrote again.

Claiming the book was just late after ten years was a bit much on the late side and all the way to the idly daydreaming that they’d ever get back to it.

“Or it could suck.”

“Or it could suck,” Tony said. “That could happen. I’ve seen bad movies before. We all have. But some people will like it, and I bet a lot of people would still go.”

“I don’t even know if I want a large number of people to go,” Bucky complained. He was doodling on Tony’s stomach, little eternity symbols, over and over. “On the other hand, I bet it would be really embarrassing if no one went. Do you think that happens? A movie opens and no one goes?”

“Pretty sure that doesn’t happen,” Tony said. “I think the worst I’ve ever even heard of were films that made like a hundred and fifty dollars on opening night -- and that’s even a per theater level, so like, seventy thousand total?”

“People buy pity tickets?”

“Besides, some of those movies go on to be cult classics, which, true, doesn’t net a lot of money for the author of the book the film was based on--”

“They offered a fee, not a percentage,” Bucky said. “It’s pretty… well, it’s higher than all my advances. Put together.” He muttered that last bit into Tony’s chest.

“Then they expect the movie to do well,” Tony said. “Usually they offer between three and five percent of the budget for the movie just for the rights, plus more for--”

“How do you know?”

“When I was CEO of Stark Industries,” Tony said, twisting his fingers through Bucky’s hair -- at least he hadn’t been so stressed out as to shave his scalp. “I was approached a few times as a potential producer, usually for advertising, product placement, that kind of thing. And I always look at all the numbers.”

“And you have a head for numbers,” Bucky said.

“I do, indeed.”

“You think I should sign?”

“I think you should let them make the movie, at least,” Tony said. “Whether or not you actually want to put the work in to consult on the script, that’s up to you. Movies reach more people than books, and I think your books have a good message.”

“Yeah? What message is that?”

Tony snorted. Like Bucky didn’t know, but sometimes he did need things to be said out loud in order to make them real. “Your books… are about hope.”

“Oh.”

“You gonna sign? I can have Pepper look over the contract for you,” Tony said.

“Yeah, I-- thank you,” Bucky said, raising his chin and giving Tony a look at those silver-blue eyes. “Yeah, I think I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of what's probably three chapters for this "story" in which we will deal with Steve and the contract in later chapters, but they won't be written immediately (I am SO BUSY right now) so if you like this set of stories, you might want to just subscribe.


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